


The Palest Nights Are Yours

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-23
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:23:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny was used to not dealing with things that bothered her. She was used to ignoring when things went wrong. She's not used to having to deal with things, and she's not used to sharing her thoughts. This is now something entirely new to deal with, and she never expected Draco Malfoy to be able to help her. Or become as important as he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Palest Nights Are Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "major illness" box on my [hc_bingo](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) card.

Ginny sat down heavily in the chair, feeling almost numb. She knew what that felt like, had felt it all too often in the past several years after Voldemort's fall. Trying to fight Death Eaters had given her a sense of purpose, had given her something to do when her family was all too ready to push her aside. Oh, they said it was all for her own safety, but she knew they didn't feel she could fight her own battles. She had just as much at stake with Voldemort's fall, but they wanted to shut her up in a box in the name of protecting her. She was sick of being treated like a precious little china doll, but there was little she could do about it.

This was different, though. This was a different kind of numbness. This was shock, this was being so overwhelmed she was close to simply dissociating from reality. She'd done that, too, under the guise of possession. It was all too easy for her to do now.

Ginny moved through her day in a fog. She worked in day care, and the children were wonderful. It was easy enough to sing and play with them, to disengage herself from the awful news she had received from her healer that morning before her shift.

Once it was over, she could collapse and cry. Once she was alone in her flat, she could deal with the news, could try to make some sense of things. But right now, nothing made sense. She felt fine. She didn't _feel_ sick, didn't feel like something awful was happening.

But her body was turning against itself, would consume itself from the inside out if she did nothing. She had uterine cancer, and her Healer wanted to remove it entirely. She would survive the cancer, but there was no chance of having her own children in the future. Ginny had always assumed she would have a half dozen babies someday, that she would be able to do as good a job as her Mum, that she would have the same love and care and patience that she did at home as she did at work. With this kind of news, there was no way that would become a reality. Her Healer had kept saying that there could be options, that this wasn't the end of everything, but Ginny couldn't feel that way. This was definitely the end of something, and how could anyone tell her different?

Plus, it was Justin Fitch-Fletchley that was her Healer for this, of all people. He was such a swot, and Ginny couldn't stand dealing with him. He was the only one currently qualified, however, so she couldn't simply switch to her former Healer. It was _cancer,_ which most wizarding Healers knew very little about. And apparently Muggles had done more research on this kind of thing, because Fitch-Fletchley had been talking about medications and therapies and new trials he had read about. All of it had gone sailing over her head, but he seemed to be confident that he knew what he was doing.

If he wasn't, Ginny was as good as dead.

***

The surgery itself was quick and relatively painless. It was the aftercare that was so baffling. Ginny didn't understand what Fitch-Fletchley was going on about in terms of support groups and mental healing and that sort of rot. She was used to pushing things aside that no one wanted to deal with. She had been doing that since she was eleven, and she was damn good at it. Her family didn't want to think about how close she had come to dying of this thing, didn't want to think about the ramifications of surgery. Everything was fine now, her brothers always said. Her mother kept sending food to her flat as usual, no hint that any change had happened.

The group was run by one of the nursing staff from Mungo's, one that Ginny thankfully liked. If she had hated that nurse, she would have turned around and walked right out. As it was, she sat off to the side of the circle, her chair pulled a little bit backward. She kept her head down at first, not sure what was going to happen. She nearly choked when Nurse Beth called her name, asking her to introduce herself. "Er... I'm Ginny Weasley. I'm still alive. That's about it."

Beth smiled encouragingly, nodding. "And that's wonderful." The others in the group all seemed to congratulate her for that, too, but Ginny felt stupid. How was this supposed to help? She listened to them talk about their stupid days, how they struggled not to cry or feel too tired. Some of the voices sounded familiar, though she kept her eyes glued to her shoes. They were scuffed, she realized. She should put them in the cabinet with her work shoes. That left one nice pair for going out...

And then the group was over, Beth came over to Ginny. "I'm so glad you decided to stop by, Ginevra," she began with a warm smile. "You'll come next time, won't you?"

Ginny shrugged, feeling hollow. "I don't know. I'm tired all the time."

"It gets better, dear, it always does," Beth assured her. She clasped one of Ginny's cold hands in one of her warm ones. "I do hope that you'll be here for our next meeting."

"Maybe," Ginny said noncommittally. It seemed to placate Beth, and Ginny avoided everyone's eyes as she left the meeting. She couldn't help but feel as though she was being watched, and couldn't shake the feeling even after she Apparated home to her flat.

This was one of those Muggle things Fitch-Fletchley had added to Mungo's, and Ginny so far didn't think she liked it.

***

The weeks seemed to slide together. Ginny went to work, pretended to be her usual happy self and came home to an empty flat that didn't even have plants in it. She felt empty and hollow and tired, but was unable to sleep. She couldn't stand being near her family, but went to those dinners two or three times a week anyway. Otherwise, she didn't eat very much. She went to Beth's cancer group twice a week, but she tended to be silent or say things that didn't really mean much. It was simply repeating that everything would be fine, she was eating regularly and she was coping as well as could be expected. She wasn't really participating, didn't really connect with anyone. She came because Beth kept asking her to, and she liked Beth. And really, she had nothing else to do.

"You don't really taste what you're eating, do you?" a voice asked her abruptly after three months of this.

"What?" Ginny looked up into flat gray eyes inside of a pale, angular face. It was Draco Malfoy, thin and very blonde, looking almost ready to fade into the cream colored walls of the meeting room. He looked tired, somehow, that same tired and faded way that some of the newer group members seemed to have. The way she looked at herself in the mirror, if she even bothered to do that half of the time.

"The food," he said patiently, pointing at the sandwiches and drinks that Beth had laid out for the group to eat before they sat and talked for an hour. "It tastes like parchment, doesn't it?" Ginny gave him a negligent shrug. "I just wanted to be sure it wasn't just me," he added with a wry smile.

"Could be that depression shite that Gemma brought up."

Draco looked thoughtful. "I think I'm no more depressed than you are," he said finally. Ginny was startled by that, but couldn't think of anything to say. "But it is a good thing you're here," he continued slowly. "Beth is right about that part. Most people think it's stupid, but this does help."

"Really? How?"

"Who else can you tell about these things?" he asked plainly. "You can't tell someone who hasn't been through it what it's like. You hear them say they know how you feel when you bloody well know they don't. You wonder if they look at you differently when you stop pretending everything's all right." He looked away from her amazed stare. "So yeah, it helps. If you let it help."

"Good to know, Malfoy," Ginny murmured, almost afraid to ask if he had been talking about himself. She hadn't paid attention when anyone talked before. She had been dimly aware that he was there, just as she had been dimly aware of other older people there. She simply hadn't cared enough to engage before.

Now she felt ashamed of wallowing in her own misery.

She watched him walk away, determined to start paying more attention to the world around her.

***

"I can't stand my family," Ginny admitted in group, unable to meet anyone's eyes. She had wanted to share, but Merlin help her, she couldn't stand the thought of seeing them judge her for this. "I can't stand pretending I'm fine, or that nothing happened. I can forget it for a little while at work, and that's been a blessing, to still be able to do that. But seeing my family, knowing that they want to hover yet still pretend I'm fine... I hate them when that happens, and I hate myself for hating them."

"It's okay, Ginny," Verity Cheswick told her. Ginny remembered that the woman had two bouts of colon cancer in the past five years, and had just had her seventieth birthday. "It happens sometimes, even to the best of us."

"And I hardly feel like the best of us," Ginny grumbled. It earned her a laugh from the rest of the group, and she chanced a glance up. Her eyes locked with Draco's. The expression on his face was one of understanding without pity, and she couldn't help but remember their brief conversation the week before. The two of them were the youngest ones in the group. The others were mostly older cancer survivors. She couldn't remember if she knew what he had battled, but she knew that for some reason, he found coming here to be helpful.

The others talked about the demeaning well wishes they've received, or how they worked through their frustration and anger. For once, Ginny found herself listening and making mental notes on what to try. Afterward, Ginny caught up with Draco. "Oi. Fancy a coffee or something? I'm not ready to go home just yet."

He smiled, softening the angles of his face considerably. "I'd like that, yeah."

There was a small coffee shop near the building where the group sessions were held. Somehow, they got to talking about a dozen different things, and Ginny felt more alive and like her old self than she used to. "Merlin, Malfoy," she chuckled as they were settling the bill. "I haven't laughed like this ages."

He smiled, and her stomach seemed to do a little flutter in response. "I think we can call each other by our first names, don't you? We've heard a lot about each others' problems at this point. I'd say we qualify as friends now."

Ginny smiled shyly at him. "Better than that, probably. I haven't mentioned to the other girls at work what's been going on."

Draco nodded. "It's still hard to, probably. It's too new for you."

"I can't remember, if you've said anything, but how long...?"

"Four years in November," Draco murmured softly, tracing the edge of his coffee cup. "My parents don't understand why I keep coming to this, if I'm practically cured."

"So why do you?" she asked, curious to hear his answer.

He looked up with a lazy grin. "Times like this. It's important. It's good to know that everything I've gone through isn't horrible enough to stop people from caring without having to pretend it didn't happen."

"Well, I suppose..."

"And you should smile more," he continued. "When you talk to me, I can almost see what it used to look like." Draco leaned back in his seat. "I thought about it for a while, when I was in Azkaban awaiting trial." Ginny looked at him, eyes wide. She was aware that she was oh so very still, that a simple shove would've been more than enough to have her falling out of her seat. "It wasn't that I liked you then, you understand. I didn't know you as anything more than your annoying brother's younger and equally annoying sister."

That snapped Ginny out of it. "Hey!"

Draco chuckled. "You see? That's what I was thinking about. That you reacted to things. That you could still smile and feel and be someone, even after all the horrid things in the war that happened to your family. I'd been under so much at the time, I hadn't believed it to be possible."

"And then your family was exonerated..."

"Not exonerated," Draco corrected with a slight shake of his head. "Pardoned is a better term. The horrible choices I made still happened, but they felt time served was punishment enough, that's all." He looked up and got his jacket. "Should we call it a night?"

"I suppose," Ginny replied reluctantly, reaching for her jacket.

His smile was almost like the arrogant ones he flashed all about Hogwarts. "Well, that'll feed my ego a few nights. How about this? We'll plan for another cuppa after the next meeting? It'll give me something to look forward to through the weekend."

"Your weekends are hard, too?" Ginny asked, amazed.

"Terribly boring. Not much to do but cater to my parents and keep assuring them I'm not sick anymore and I'm not going to die. It probably sounds ungrateful, but I'm sick of it and would rather do anything else at all."

"There's always a need at the childcare center I work at," Ginny mentioned, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop to think about it. "It's not a weekend thing, but it might help with the weekdays."

"I'll keep it in mind, Ginny. Thanks."

That night, Ginny stared up at the ceiling and found herself smiling. She never used to like Draco, but time had filed away all his rough edges. And he understood what she felt like without having to be told, which helped quite a bit. She felt normal around him, more like the Ginny she used to be. She liked that. It hadn't been effort at all to talk to him, and for the first time in months, she was looking forward to something rather than simply going through the motions of life.

It was a wonderful feeling to have back.

***

Draco had a cough during the group session where they congratulated him on being four years cancer-free. Beth had made a cake, and Ginny finally heard the term lymphoma, which she really hadn't understood. They went to the coffee shop often, and had even gone out on a few dinner dates. It was a casual kind of relationship, one that seemed to be built more on friendship and understanding than lust. But Ginny couldn't help sometimes what it might be like for him to kiss her, or what his skin would feel like pressed up to hers. She couldn't quite get over her fear of asking him, and opportunities always seemed to be slipping past.

After the group, they were settled comfortably in their usual booth at the coffee shop. Neither were terribly hungry due to the extra sweets at the group session, but they sipped coffee due to habit. "Want to come over to my flat?" Ginny all but blurted, without time to think about it. If she thought about it, she would second guess herself. This wasn't about second guessing at this point. This was simply wanting, and wanting _him,_ because his company and understanding had helped her feel more like herself again.

Draco's gaze on her was sharp and almost uncomfortable. "Because it's some kind of four year anniversary present?" he asked. His tone was flat, but it felt biting just the same.

Ginny managed not to flinch at his words. "I've... I've wanted to ask you over a while now. I just... Look, you don't have to." She looked down and started digging for her wallet rather than look at his eyes. "Just forget I asked, okay? Never mind."

"I almost didn't think you would ask," he said, voice softer. "I figured you thought of me as simply a friend."

She looked up, hand tight around knuts and sickles. "I didn't think you wanted me as anything but that," she admitted in a soft voice.

Draco's laugh was soft and self deprecating. "So we could've been shagging for months now?" Her cheeks crimson, all Ginny could do was stare at him. He laughed even harder at her expression. "Come on. We need a walk and I want to take you someplace nice."

Ginny followed him out into the cold outside, and they walked through downtown Edinburgh. "Where do you want to take me?"

"I have a flat near here, actually." He gave her a crooked smile. "You'll be the first to see it."

"Haven't you invited anyone else there?"

"Never had much of a reason to. The Manor was good enough to see most people. They don't want to see the bits that aren't happy or shining, anyway."

"But me..."

"You see all of it," he told her in a quiet voice, breath coming in frosty puffs. He smiled at her, and she was sure they must look odd, these two thin people all bundled up against the cold, walking along the street at night. "Just like I saw it in you," he continued. "I don't have to pretend it's not there."

"It makes pretending the rest of the time that much easier," Ginny guessed, looking at him.

"It does, doesn't it?"

His flat was small, but she guessed that he didn't stay there very often. It was neat and spare, stuffed full of books and plants that bore vividly colored flowers. "Oh. It's lovely."

Draco looked over the space proudly. "I put it together in the first months after my last treatment. I was determined I'd be one of those that lived for years on end afterward."

"Four years today," Ginny reminded him. She looked at her watch. "Oh. Almost four years and a day, isn't it?"

He laughed and hung their coats up, carefully winding the scarves and putting them aside. Draco's eyes caught hers, and Ginny's mouth suddenly went dry at the look of pure desire on his face. "I've had some good times," he began slowly. He came closer to her, their eyes still locked. "Most of them recently. Most of them with you."

They kissed, slowly and carefully exploring each other.

Draco's touch was gentle, almost reverent, making Ginny feel like she was something to be treasured. She opened her mouth beneath his, then slid her tongue along his lips. His lips parted, and their tongues touched. It was like dancing, she decided. One advanced while the other retreated, and then they reversed roles. In the meantime her hands slid along his chest until she could touch his neck, feeling his heartbeat race at her touch. It was only fair; he did the same thing to hers.

They stumbled back toward his bedroom, shedding clothes on the way. Part of Ginny wondered what the hell she was doing; she hadn't been in any kind of relationship in ages, and she probably wasn't good relationship material. Another part squelched those thoughts ruthlessly. Draco knew everything there was to know about her already. He knew the dark bits, the parts that she hid from others so they wouldn't fawn all over her or fall over themselves feeling sorry for her. He knew all that and cared about her anyway. What else was this if it wasn't a relationship? The only thing missing was the sex.

Draco grinned when Ginny tumbled backward onto his bed. "What?" she asked, sitting up and patting at her hair self consciously.

"You belong here like this," he said, his gaze falling over the curves of her body appreciatively. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss along her jaw and urged her down onto her back again. "You're beautiful," he murmured, beginning to kiss his way down her body. Ginny thought of denying that, but beauty was perception, she knew. She might not always _feel_ beautiful, but he saw her that way.

Her legs trembled, and her breathing hitched when his mouth descended over her. He licked her folds, tracing her from the outside in. His fingers ghosted over the insides of her thighs, and Ginny's breath caught. It didn't matter what she looked like anymore. Now she _felt_ like a supermodel.

Draco crooked his finger inside her, making her gasp and her thighs tremble. He smiled as he moved to suck on her clit gently. The pleasure shot through her, and Draco kept licking and sucking at her swollen clit. Ginny moaned, writhing beneath his lips, grasping at the coverlet. He slid another finger into her, moving quickly as her breathing fractured. "Ginny," he breathed against the inside of her thigh. He trailed his tongue along the skin there, his fingers still moving inside her until he could feel her body clamping down tight around his fingers. He looked at her, his entire body backlit by the light streaming in from the hallway. The white-blond strands of his hair were almost lit up like a halo, and Ginny reached down for him. He smiled and moved to hover over her. "What?"

"Enough foreplay," Ginny said, still panting. "I need you _now."_

"Your wish is my command," he murmured, moving to slide into her. He pulled on her hips and she picked up the rhythm to counter his trusts against her. _Yes._

Ginny giggled and slid her hands along his sides. "Good to know you like it, too," she said between gasps.

Draco hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud as he had moved inside her. He grinned unrepentantly at her. "Yeah. Because it's you."

Her eyes widened a fraction and then she gasped when he made a deeper thrust inside of her. She arched into him and pulled his hips closer, trying to get even closer. She felt like she must have been saying something in response to how he felt, but it was nonsensical and she couldn't focus on anything but the wonderful feel of him inside of her, her body tightening around his as she was close to coming. Ginny could see his eyes squeeze shut, could feel his hands tighten on her hips. He was close too, too close, and then she could feel his body jerk against hers as he came. He still moved within her, and moved a hand to brush his thumb across her clit. It was just enough to shatter her, and she came with a cry.

They collapsed on the bed. "My stamina used to be better," Draco murmured, a half smile on his face. "I used to go on for hours."

"In your head maybe?" Ginny offered in a sweet tone of voice. They laughed together and she cradled his face in her hands. "I love you," she said softly. "I don't know when it happened, but I do."

"I know when it happened for me," Draco said quietly, moving to press a kiss to her palm. "When you smiled for real, that first time. You were lit up from the inside out."

"I can't have children," Ginny murmured.

"I know. That's all right. I probably couldn't have any anyway," he replied shrugging. "It doesn't matter."

"But your parents... the Manor..."

"We're lucky to be _alive,_ Ginny. They'll get over it in time."

Ginny traced the edge of his cheek, brushing the pale strands of hair aside. "Do you ever think about it? What could have been?"

"Yeah." He caught her hand against his cheek and brought it to his lips. "This is better."

"Really?"

"I'd go through it all again in a heartbeat. It's the only path that leads to you."

She couldn't help but smile at him. "Does anyone else know you're a smoosh at heart?"

"No, and I'd deny it if anyone says anything."

Ginny laughed. "No, I think I'll keep this just between us. I don't want to share this just yet."

Draco grinned at her. "I feel the same way."

***

Draco's cough grew worse over hols, though Ginny was distracted by the sheer terror of meeting the Malfoys and having Draco meet her parents. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say to the inevitable "So how did you meet?" question that was bound to come up. They didn't have the same social circle outside of the group sessions, though they had started to meet each others' friends that fall. When Ginny did notice the cough at the Malfoy New Year's ball, he waved it off as a cold or flu he must have picked up. It made sense at the time.

But when the cough persisted into the whole of January and February, Ginny forced him to make a checkup. He was at every-six-month status, and he didn't like the idea of showing up in between visits or early. It was a testament to how much he trusted her and how tired he had gotten that he bothered to make the appointment.

It wasn't much of a surprise to hear that his lymphoma was back.

Ginny felt that same kind of numbness creep back over her. Had it been nearly a year since her own diagnosis? It had been hard enough dealing with her own treatments and moods. How could she watch someone else go through that? Now she could understand her family's impulse to pretend that nothing was wrong. Now she could understand why it hurt them so much to see her tired and ill. She knew she had been angry or numb in places, and knew that Draco was probably feeling the same things, even if he didn't say it.

Draco was quiet in the evenings, too thin and almost like a pale wraith. "I'll be fine," he told her. "You'll see."

She pulled him up to a standing position in front of her. "Look at me." He stubbornly kept his gaze locked on an eyebrow or the bridge of her nose. He couldn't quite make eye contact. "Talk to me. Tell me what's happening."

"I'll be fine. I beat it once," he said fiercely, finally looking her in the eye, "and I can beat it again."

She cupped his face with her hands. "Can I be scared, then? Because I don't want to lose you, not when I just found you."

"I'll be _fine,"_ he insisted, kissing her palms. "We know I'll be fine."

But she didn't know, did she? She didn't know enough about how these things worked. Her own cancer had been small and easily removed, all things considered. How would the Healers be able to kill his? It was his immune system gone out of control, and he couldn't live without that. Ginny felt fragile somehow, as if she would fall to pieces. She was numb outside, hands cold and lips drawn tight. But inside, she trembled and felt as if could dissolve into tears.

Draco drew her to the bedroom, his mouth over hers and his hands working the buttons on her sweater. It fell from her shoulders easily enough, and their kiss broke long enough to pull her shirt over her head. Her bra was easy enough to remove, and he gazed at her bare torso hungrily before taking a pert nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it greedily, feeling her clutch him tightly. One hand was at her back, the moved between her legs, pulling up her skirt and slipping beneath her knickers. Ginny was pulling his shirttails out of his pants, attacking the buckle even as she had difficulty breathing. Draco's fingers were pumping in and out of her, and Ginny's head fell back as she gasped for breath. He could feel her body tighten, could feel her breath come in short pants. He wanted to fall on her and rut like an animal; maybe then she would understand that he was _fine,_ and he would be all right. He beat this disease once, he could do it again. And this time, he had something to live for.

They hit the bed, losing a few more articles of clothing along the way. Ginny pushed Draco down onto his bed and knelt by his side. She bent her head down and took him into her mouth, letting her eyes fall shut so she could concentrate on the feel of him along her tongue. Draco made a contented sound, and one of his hands came to rest her shoulder. She shivered when his fingers went down to touch her sides and then circled to her front, brushing across her nipples. They were taut peaks, aching for his touch. She gasped when his fingers slid beneath her knickers and touched the curls there, then felt their way along her folds. She sucked harder on him, her left hand tightening on his thigh and her other on the sheets as she propped herself up over him. He stroked her clit slowly at first, then harder when she shivered and tried to stifle a moan of pleasure. Draco kept stroking her, until she came around his fingers and sucked hard on his cock.

Ginny shifted position to ride him hard, her hands tight on his shoulders. She couldn't let go of him, couldn't keep her eyes from leaving his. It was only half lit in the bedroom, and he seemed pale as moonlight and almost as fragile. He had to feel real, he had to _live._

She didn't know how she could face the rest of her life without him.

***

"Marry me."

Ginny looked up in surprise, not expecting to hear those words while preparing dinner at his flat. Had his Healer's appointment gone so desperately wrong?

But Draco was grinning up at her, down on one knee, hand sliding along her thigh. "I had this whole speech planned for dinner, and hiding this next to your plate. But you know what? Fuck it." He got up and held the ring box out to her. "I want the entire world to know how much I love you. And I'm not hungry for dinner right now anyway."

As far as proposals went, there had to be better out there. But Ginny put everything aside and threw her arms around him, her mouth unerringly finding his. _"Yes,_ you daft, idiotic, infuriating man," she said breathlessly. It was a marquise cut solitaire, no doubt a stone that cost several months of her salary. But that didn't matter. The ring was beautiful, his hands here on her hips dragging her to the bedroom, and he was right. Dinner could wait a little while.

"We can get married next week," Draco told her, running kisses down the side of her neck.

Her shivers were only partly due to arousal. Was he getting that sick? "So soon?" she gasped, feeling his hand slide beneath her shirt to cup a breast.

"Why wait?" He pulled back slightly to look in her eyes. "Unless you _want_ some kind of fancy frou-frou wedding? I thought you didn't like that kind of shite."

"I don't," Ginny said, sliding her arms around his shoulders. "I guess... Just an officer of the Ministry and two witnesses?"

"What do you take me for?" he said, lips curling into a sardonic smile. "I can do _amazing_ things in a week. Just watch me."

Ginny laughed, appeased for the moment. This was Draco being impetuous and impatient. It wasn't because of illness. It wasn't because his time was running out. Oh, thank Merlin. If that was the cause of it, she couldn't bear it.

The support group were all invited; it almost hurt to realize that a good number of members that had been present when Ginny first joined the group had died, and there were new members that had never known a time when Draco and Ginny weren't together. Things were always changing, always, and it was in the midst of a whirlwind that Ginny saw Draco begin to slow down. He only danced the slow dances with her at the reception, his appetite was light and his smiles had a strained edge to them. He held her hand tightly, almost too tightly, and spun her around until she was dizzy.

They went to Paris for the honeymoon, and his potions treatments began the very next day.

His hair came out in clumps, that beautiful whiteblond hair that he was so vain about. His gray eyes went utterly flat when the strands came out, when his cheeks started to sink against his skull. He was thin and nauseous, his skin so brittle that sometimes he could barely even tolerate Ginny's touch. Everything was too much for him, too much for his eyes to take in. Colors were too bright, his heart beat too fast, and his eyes seemed dry all the time. Ginny's eyes seemed always full of tears, and somehow they seemed to balance out.

Draco didn't tell her when he picked out his headstone, what the engravings would say and where he would be placed. She was fragile enough already, and that would have sent her over the edge. But he was being practical. His parents didn't know him anymore, and she would be too brokenhearted to think straight. He could spare her this. He could do this, arrange everything the way he wanted, could leave her with memories of him when still alive and not get bogged down with idiotic minutiae. She deserved better.

And maybe, just maybe, if he did it himself, it wouldn't happen. He was almost afraid to hope.

Draco knelt down in a strange Muggle church one afternoon after one of his treatments. Ginny was at work still, and would be for hours yet. He had no idea what to do in churches, but the muggleborn or halfblood witches and wizards in the support group talked about how much they prayed in times like this, how much it helped calm them and bring them strength. He wasn't a religious man, and had no use for strange trappings of a faith he didn't believe in. But the church was calm and quiet, half dark with bright stained glass windows. He sat in a pew in the back, looking around him. It was mostly empty, perhaps one or two groups of elderly people toward the front. He mimicked their bowed heads, but didn't know otherwise what he was supposed to do.

_I don't know if you know me,_ he thought earnestly, almost feeling the last wisps of his hair fall from his skull, _but I could use some help here. I don't want to leave yet. I can't leave Ginny yet. I haven't had enough time with her._

Though, who was he kidding? A lifetime wouldn't be enough time.

_Whatever you can spare, God? I'll take whatever you think I deserve, okay? It might not be much, but I'll be happy with it, I promise._

The church was quiet and still, and he couldn't tell if he was heard, much less answered. He knelt in front of Ginny that night, and layered a prayer over her skin in kisses and licks of his tongue against the insides of her thighs. _I need more time,_ he traced along her skin gently, the moonlight making her pale skin shine, _I would spend forever with you if I could._ He knew she could hear the prayer in his touch, the reverent feel of his lips over her skin. And when she came, it was answer enough for his prayer to her.

***

Fitch-Fletchley was an arse of epic proportions at times, but he was right about a lot of things. Ginny had gotten better from her own illness, and she was cancer-free for a year. She had no lasting physical effects after the surgery and potion treatments, and she had been able to go back to work right away. The support group had been more helpful than she had wanted to admit. She met people that understood exactly what she was going through. She learned how to deal with the feelings of distress that came when she thought of the future.

So she had to believe he was right when he said that there was hope for Draco. She had to believe that he would look worse before he got better, that it would soon enough give way to another cycle of healing. She had to believe that, as difficult as it was sometimes.

"When I get the all clear, we'll go to the Riviera," Draco told her as she stroked the fuzz on top of his head at night. He traced the inside of her wrist with his fingertips, let his eyes do the rest. He was too tired to do much else in evenings now.

"It almost feels impossible sometimes," Ginny said slowly. She leaned down and pressed her lips against the skin of his nearly bare skull. "You seem so sick."

"It was worse the last time," Draco murmured, looking up to meet her eyes. If he hadn't, she would have thought he was lying. "This isn't so bad, and I've nearly run the course of potion treatments. Just another month to go." Her fear must have shown on her face, because he reached up to touch her cheek. "It's going to be okay, Ginny. We're going to be fine. I'll finish the month, and then that bastard will give me my clean bill of health again and we'll take a holiday."

"Sounds good," she managed to choke out.

The days crept by painfully slowly. Ginny watched Draco move creakily through his routines, watched him go to his appointments and meetings and take all the prescribed potions and spell work. He was thin, painfully thin, almost like a ghost. Sometimes she was afraid that even holding him would hurt him; he was all angles and bony joints, deep sighs and pale skin that was as thin as rice paper. But he kept up with reading the Prophet every day, kept reminding her that they would visit the Riviera and do all sorts of things together. He seemed to hint that he was considering adopting with her, but Ginny couldn't comprehend the words half of the time. Her mind kept sticking on how large his clothes seemed to be on his frame, how much he slept during the day and how tired he always seemed to be.

She almost dared to hope by midsummer that he might be right. By the end of August, he didn't need any naps during the day, though any heavy physical activity was too much of a strain. He was ready for walking around by September, and he asked Ginny to bring him around places he used to visit in London. On impulse, he brought her to the same church he had prayed in that one time. She looked around the church, at Draco's bowed head and the pale fuzz just beginning to grow back on his skull. She smoothed it back and kissed a spot just above his ear.

Ginny looked toward the front of the church as Draco took her hand in his. _Thank you,_ she thought, staring at the front of the church. Her vision began to swim as she clutched Draco's hand tightly, knowing just how close they had all come. It didn't matter who had helped him survive his cancer, she was still grateful. _Thank you, God, thank you._

They spent New Year's Eve in the French Riviera, sitting in a cafe beneath the stars.

Draco lifted his glass in a toast. "To the rest of eternity, Ginny."

She kissed his mouth as the countdown to midnight began elsewhere in the cafe. "Until every star in the sky goes out," Ginny promised.

Forever was a long time, and they had only just gotten started.

The End


End file.
